Ambition
by Fierceawakening
Summary: For Crimson Optics' monthly prompt on LJ, "Ambition." My re-telling of the events of Megatron: Origin where Starscream first meets Megatron. Most spoken dialogue is from the comic, with a few rewordings so Megatron's not going "Hnn" every third word. ;-


"Heh. What do you want?"

Starscream could think of many answers to that question. _Power. Prestige. Recognition. The freedom to do as I like. _But the question wasn't addressed to him. It was addressed to the one who'd brought Starscream and his wingmates in. Soundwave was the mech's name, though Starscream didn't find his droning, monotonous voice at all melodic.

Starscream stared straight ahead. As far as he was concerned, there was only one mech here worth his notice. Megatron, lord of the gladiator pits, mightiest fighter in the deathmatch arena.

And he'd clearly been in a fight recently. The broad silver frame was pitted with dents and gouges, and one arm was missing entirely. The red warpaint he decorated himself with before his matches was scratched and pitted with damage. Torn cabling hung from the shoulder joint. Starscream almost scoffed. _This _was the mech they were calling the Slag Maker? It looked as though he'd come perilously close to being slagged himself.

Then he caught sight of the lifeless frame lying on a gurney next to Megatron. It was missing an optic, drills and probes moving within the socket. Its mouth was open, frozen in a perpetual scream.

As Starscream watched, drones removed the arm of the dead one, sliding it over to Megatron's shoulder. A green mech walked over, welder in hand. Without a word, he set about attaching the arm, bright sparks flying as he worked.

It should have hurt. It _had _to hurt. Starscream's turbines whirled just watching it. But the only concession that Megatron gave the pain was a slight flicker of his optics.

Starscream's spark pulsed in his chest. Perhaps this Megatron was as mighty as the rumors claimed.

Soundwave's voice jolted him out of his reverie. "Your request for a flight-capable combatant?"

Starscream frowned. He didn't much like the mech who'd brought him here. It was Megatron he wanted to see, and he'd much rather have dealt with Megatron directly.

He licked his lips. _That _would have been entertaining, to give Kaon's living legend a call out of nowhere. "Oh, you don't know me yet, Lord of the Pits, but you _will..._" It was almost a pity Soundwave had shown up to recruit his team instead.

Megatron looked up. His optics flared, the searing crimson of molten metal. Starscream shivered, the scars he'd almost mocked making him suddenly uneasy. Megatron had endured those wounds and lived, not only to tell about them, but to destroy whoever had inflicted them.

He'd brought his trine here to Kaon to fight in the pits. They were Seekers - delicate, designed for flight. Could they endure as much?

Megatron's optics never left Starscream. "You have one?" he said, as if he weren't staring directly at Starscream and couldn't see his wingmates behind him.

Starscream's engines revved in annoyance. _Ignoring me, brute? You'll learn better than that soon enough._

"Negative," the other answered as Starscream and his wingmates stepped closer. If he was amused by Megatron's little joke, Starscream couldn't tell it. "I present three."

He nodded, introducing each of the fliers he'd brought with him. "Skywarp. Thundercracker. And -"

Starscream slid gracefully to his knees in front of Megatron just as Soundwave's flat voice intoned his name.

"Megatron. I pledge my loyalty undying," Starscream said, smirking as he gazed up at the gladiator's faceplates.

Those bright optics fixed on Starscream for a long moment. The scrutiny made his wings twitch.

"You fly." Megatron said, his voice flat.

_You need me, _Starscream thought, his spark pulsing in triumph. _You think you can hide it, but that's as good as a confession. _He rose to his feet, not bothering to hide his grin. "Beyond three times the speed of sound. All of us."

_And I'm faster than the two of them. But you've guessed that already, haven't you, Megatron?_

Preening, Starscream stepped closer. He'd won prestige in his home city easily. He was the best flier in a city for the winged. And anyone who hoped to best him through guile or politics soon learned that he was just as devious as he was graceful in the air.

But getting to the top had come with its own unpleasant surprise: boredom.

There was nothing more to fight for or scheme for or lie for or kill for. Not once everyone lowered his wings to you out of respect or deference or fear or ineffectual hate.

But here, in Kaon, in these grimy, dirty pits - something was happening. Something that wasn't just about illegal deathmatches or about the masses of energon the victors could earn in the pits. Or even about the wealth and power that Megatron amassed as the ringleader of everything happening here.

Something more was going on here. Something far bigger than the aristocrats back home, hiding in their aeries, could ever imagine.

And the one who led it would have power beyond anything they could imagine, if he didn't already.

Starscream would seize it, if he could. Someday, when he was ready. When he knew this scarred behemoth Megatron better than he knew himself.

"Can I just say," Starscream went on, his wings clicking a frantic cadence, "how honored I - how honored _we _are by this opportunity? To join you in this arena, to fight by -"

The gladiator's frame rumbled, a low, dangerous sound. Starscream fell silent, startled by his own response. Since when had anything ever stopped him from speaking his piece? His optics narrowed as he glared at Megatron.

Megatron's own optics mirrored his, narrowing to slits. Then he smirked, holding up a hand. "The arena? Oh, no. I have something much better in mind for you and yours."

Starscream's spark pulsed. Something _better? _Was Megatron toying with him now, annoyed that Starscream had glared at him? If he was, he would pay. Maybe not now, maybe not today, but he would pay.

Starscream shot a hasty glance at his wingmates. Thundercracker's face was impassive, but Starscream could hear the dull roar of his engines, indicating he too was displeased. Skywarp frowned openly, his wings drooping.

"Don't look so disappointed," Megatron broke in, grinning as he flexed his new arm, testing it. "You will all wear my badge."

He clenched his fist. "And you _will _kill for me. All of you."

Starscream's optics widened. Of course he'd never intended to waste the rest of his life battling thugs to the death. That was a waste of time and energy. And dangerous to anyone who ever made mistakes.

But Megatron's power lay here, in the arena, at least for now. So he'd offered himself and his wingmates as fighters. He'd assumed that would be what Megatron would want, at least in the beginning.

He shivered, his earlier thought echoing through his mind. _Something more was going on here._

Apparently, Megatron knew that Starscream knew it.

Starscream watched, mesmerized, as Megatron's hand retracted into its socket in his wrist. The socket glowed, crackling with energy. _A weapon? _Starscream wondered, his optics fixed on the bright, lavender glow.

Finally the weapon emerged: a spiked ball on the end of a chain, glowing bright with the energy wreathing it. Starscream's wings twitched as he stared at Megatron's broad frame, thinking of the damage those spikes would do with such a strong arm behind them.

"In these changing times, we must all be flexible," Megatron said. His optics met Starscream's, and his scarred faceplates twisted into a smile.

Starscream inclined his head. So the brute did have some intelligence. And wanted to play games. Well, Starscream had played them long before Megatron had built up this little empire. He'd been the most powerful Seeker in Vos when Megatron was still slaving away in the energon mines.

"Indeed... my lord," Starscream answered, inclining his head and sweeping his wings into a dramatic bow.

Behind him, he could hear Thundercracker's engines roar again. _Fine. Leave, if you don't like the stakes, _Starscream thought, knowing full well his wingmate never would.

"Excellent," Megatron rumbled. Starscream didn't raise his head, but he could feel those burning optics on him, studying his smallest movement. He cycled air through his intakes in a heavy pant, waiting.

But Megatron did not address him again, instead turning to the green medic who stood just beside him, silently watching the assembly. "Hook - those three. I give you the steel. Now give me back the weapon."

Starscream grinned, straightening up. "Oh," he murmured, just quietly enough that Megatron might miss it, "you'll discover soon enough that I'm already a weapon."


End file.
